I have said that our youth had been fascinated with Maria. He was in high spirits; he was pleased with the idea of having gained so pretty and genteel a mistress, for she had in the tenderest manner, consented to be exclusively his as long as he might feel disposed to keep her. Patting him on his bump of benevolence with her taper finger, she had said, ‘Pretty American lad, I love you much. I love your face. I love your figure, and your voice. I shall be much please with you to-day and to-morrow all the same. Oh, you is one pretty. Come up to my room and you shall see how I love you, mine friend.’ Monteagle obeyed this tender request. From such lips and enforced with a voice ringing like a silver-bell, it was impossible for him to disobey the command. Blodget saw and heard it all; and when the enamored couple shut the door behind them, he placed his jewelled finger on one side of his nose, and winked to the Scottish-girl who appeared to fully understand it. For the last half hour that Monteagle had remained in the saloon, he had overheard a lively conversation between three pretty French girls, carried on in their vernacular, which had for its object a lady apparently from Lima, as she was dressed in their peculiar attire. Her dress was dark, fitted to the form in a peculiar manner, so as to show the swell of the hips, without being wide and flowing like the dress of our ladies. Her form was entirely hidden, except that a small aperture permitted her to look abroad with one eye. This dress is singular, and yet it is worn by all fashionable ladies in certain parts of South America. This lady had spoken little since her entrance, while she seemed to be an attentive observer of all that passed. The French girls were wondering who she was. Their observations were piquant and full of wit; and as Monteagle was a perfect master of the French language, he was not a little entertained by their funny remarks. To him, however, the presence of the strange lady was a matter of very little interest. As her face was invisible, she might be a perfect fright for all that he knew to the contrary, and in the few half-understood words that fell from her lips, he discovered no more than the most common-place observations. He did, however, observe that the mistress of the establishment—a very beautiful and accomplished woman herself—treated the incognito with marks of the highest respect. Scarcely had Monteagle placed his foot on the stairs to follow Maria to an upper apartment, when the unknown appeared in the hall, and having thrust a billet into the hand of the girl, turned and left the house immediately. Maria laughed slightly. ‘What is this?’ said she, in her broken English. ‘One letter to read! Oh! very good; I shall read you a letter, mine friend. So much the better. I shall see.’